


The Lost Letter

by Nigaki



Series: Voyeurism [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom John Marston, Chapter 4: Saint Denis (Red Dead Redemption 2), Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Homophobic Language, Kissing, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Protective John Marston, Smut, Top Arthur Morgan, Voyeurism, not Mary friendly, outisde pov, she can choke - Freeform, sorry i just don't like her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 16:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaki/pseuds/Nigaki
Summary: Mary knows Arthur is in Saint Denis. She sent him a letter but he never arrived. Thankfully, Faith decided to intervene and brought him to her anyway. But he's not alone. And as the evening progress, it seems that Faith is mocking her rather than helping her.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Series: Voyeurism [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821586
Comments: 15
Kudos: 47





	The Lost Letter

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while but I didn't forget about this series. Sadie was supposed to be next watching the boys getting hot and sweaty but I was in a mood for Mary seeing what she had tossed away. 
> 
> Again.

Mary waited.

One day, then two, then three. She started to think that her letter didn’t get to Arthur after all, lost or stolen, maybe even by Arthur’s own gang.

She knew he was nearby, she heard talks about the shootout in Rhodes and even before that she knew what happened in Valentine. There was only one way he and his gang could have escaped. Not to mention she spotted one of the girls in town a couple of days ago, buying supplies.

Arthur was here, in Saint Denis. Faith once again brought them together.

Seeing him in Valentine after those years was overwhelming. She was so happy to see him well and healthy, but also sad that he still rode around with those bad people he called family. It crossed her mind to ask him to stay, to go with her once he retrieved Jamie from the hands of those cultists. But she didn’t, because she thought he didn’t change at all in those years. Only later, when she already sat on a train with Jamie, on their way to Saint Denis, she realized she made a mistake.

He changed. He was much more tired. Maybe it was just age, he wasn’t in his early twenties anymore and he was riding with the gang for so long it got to exhaust him. But something in his eyes was telling her it wasn’t just age. He was just tired of this life he was living.

He once wasn’t ready to settle down but now he no doubt was. They could finally be together just like they wanted all those years ago. And so, when he would arrive at her hotel, she wasn’t going to let go of him again. Not this time.

If he was planning to arrive.

Mary paced her hotel room, looking outside through the balcony, expecting to see him waiting at her downstairs, smiling up at her, happy to see her, to put a ring on her finger once again. She still got it and she was ready to wear it for the rest of her life now.

But there was no one on the street waiting for her, just people passing by.

It was the fourth day and Arthur still didn’t come. She couldn’t imagine him avoiding her, he wasn’t a man like that. So he either didn’t receive the letter yet, for whatever reason, or something else stopped him from visiting. Maybe his boss, maybe someone in the gang, she knew that scary woman that ordered people around didn’t like her much. Every time Mary visited Arthur’s camp, she felt unwelcome there by everyone but a tall charming blond man and his wife. Even the boss didn’t seem that friendly, though he certainly played as such very well.

But that didn’t sound like Arthur either. He would follow his boss into any danger, but he was still his own man, he could go wherever he liked. So he probably was just staying away from the city. He never liked them. When he was visiting her, he felt suffocated here and it caused many disagreements between them in the past. It would be wise, after getting him back, to live in some smaller town or outside of it altogether. Mary loved the city but she was ready for that sacrifice if it meant she would keep Arthur that way. She could become a rancher’s wife, it couldn’t be that hard. She could learn how to cook, clean and tend the animals.

Mary smiled to herself. She felt like a teenager again, dreaming of a house and a husband and a big, romantic love. All those things were making her heart flutter and shortly after it skipped a beat too when she heard a familiar chuckle.

He was here, finally!

She quickly looked down, sure that she was going to see Arthur already looking back, amused by her dreamy expression. But it wasn’t her that made him chuckle. There was a man with Arthur, both of them leaning against each other, clearly drunk.

Mary’s heart dropped. Arthur didn’t come to see her. He wouldn’t get drunk before meeting with her. And he wouldn’t bring anyone to their meeting either. Was he here by pure accident? Did he really didn’t get her letter?

She thought about shouting and getting his attention, but thought better of it. She didn’t want the other man to get involved in this. He was probably part of Arthur's gang, he certainly looked like a dangerous bandit when Mary took a good look at his scarred face when he threw his head back as he howled with laughter at something Arthur told him on the ear.

Arthur grinned at the man, watched him calm down while ignoring people around them that were startled by his loud companion.

Still chuckling under his breath, the black haired man turned to Arthur. “I don’t think I can ride back,” he said and giggled drunkenly, falling at the same time onto Arthur who caught him and kept both of them upright. It was the first time Mary was seeing Arthur drunk, he never drank around her, only some wine during fancy dinners.

“You’re so full of shit, Marston, you know that?” Arthur asked the man, who grinned at him. “You’re not that drunk, you’re just lazy.”

“Come on, Arthur,” the man whined. “It’s getting dark, it’s creepy in the swamps at that hour.”

“I can hold your hand if you’re scared.”

The man giggled again. “Let’s rent a room,” he suggested. Mary’s heartbeat increased. What was the chance that Arthur would rent a room next to hers? Then she could visit him, and they would talk while his friend would be in another room. Maybe her letter didn’t get to him but she still had a chance! “I’ll pay.”

How someone like them could avoid such a fine hotel, she had no idea. Or rather she had, she just didn’t like it.

“For a bath too,” Arthur added and his friend sighed.

“Fine,” he agreed, already tugging Arthur by his suspender towards the hotel.

Mary stayed on the balcony, getting her breathing under control. She knew she got to move if she wanted to know which room Arthur was going to rent, the hotel had three stories, it could be anywhere, but her legs felt wobbly, useless. All she ever wanted, her dream and happiness, were so close, within the hand reach. All she needed to do was grab it and hold tight to it.

With a great determination, she turned on her heels and marched to the door leading to the hallway but stopped right as she was about to open the door. She heard footsteps outside, with a characteristic jingling of the spurs that always followed Arthur. But the steps were too light to belong to him. In the past they sounded like that, but not recently. It had to be the other man.

Nervously, she cracked the door open and there he was, on the opposite side of the hallway, two doors further from hers, opening it. She couldn’t see the man’s face, it was covered with his long, black hair, but she heard him sigh when he pushed the door open and entered, not closing it behind himself.

Mary left her room once she was sure the man wouldn’t return to the hallway, which she expected him to do right away since he didn’t close the door. But he didn’t, she heard him moving for a while and then how he groaned along with the bed he fell onto.

She tiptoed down the hallway and down the stairs where the owner was and where the room with the bath was too. She hoped to catch Arthur outside of it, then there would be no one to interrupt them but only the owner was present sitting by his desk and writing something down.

“Excuse me,” she got his attention.

“Yes, Miss?”

“There were two men renting rooms just a moment ago. Can you tell me which ones they’re staying in?”

“Ah yes, room sixteen.”

“That’s the man with the scars,” she noticed. “What about the other?”

“I only rented them one room, said they don’t mind sharing the bed,” the man explained with a smile. “Anything else, Miss?”

She smiled back. “No, thank you, that’s all,” she said and walked back upstairs.

So Arthur and his friend were sharing a room. That was complicating things, it would be harder to get him alone to talk. Unless she waited for him in the hallway.

That was a good plan, or would’ve been if she didn’t bump into the black haired man at the top of the stairs.

She bounced off him like a child and lost her balance, almost tumbling down the stairs. Almost, because a pair of strong hands caught her in time by her waist and brought her into an even stronger chest.

“Woah, careful, Miss!” he chuckled, letting go of her the moment she got her footing back. Mary looked up at him, right into his brown eyes that sparkled with amusement as he watched her with a smirk. Up close, his scars didn’t look so bad. She knew nothing about them but they looked fresh, not completely healed yet. They would probably look even better with more time. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she assured and smiled tightly at him. “I’m sorry for bumping into you, sir.”

“No harm done. Have a pleasant evening, Miss.”

“You too.”

Mary watched him walk down the stairs and turn to enter the hallway downstairs where the baths were. Once he was out of her sight, she rushed to her room and hid behind the closed door, staying by them to wait for Arthur returning from his bath, preferably alone. 

Arthur did return after another twenty minutes but he wasn’t on his own, his friend with him again, both of them chatting about someone named Jack. She couldn’t hear them anymore when they entered their room, this time closing the door behind.

Mary sighed, frustrated. This was ridiculous, she just wanted to talk with Arthur in private, why did this man have to get in the way? Why her letter just couldn’t get to Arthur?

Doesn’t matter, she wasn’t going to let that opportunity pass, wait for Arthur to get the letter and come visit some other time. She was a grown woman, for god’s sake, and she had no reason to be scared of that scarred outlaw. He seemed nice and even if he was just playing, Arthur would never let him harm her. She wanted to talk to Arthur and she was going to do that, because there was nothing but the door stopping her.

Confident, she quickly fixed her hair and make-up, made sure her dress wasn’t crinkled and put some perfumes on her neck before leaving the room into the dark hallway, her legs taking her right to the room sixteen. Taking a deep breath, she raised a fist to knock on the door but never did, she simply dropped her hand and stared at the door, hearing some shuffling behind it.

What was she going to tell Arthur? Starting a conversation by telling she loved him seemed wrong and she didn’t only write to him for that. He would probably want an explanation why she was here and how she knew where to find him. She was going to tell him and then ask for help with daddy. He wouldn’t refuse and when they would finally deal with her problem, there would be a perfect time to reveal her feelings for him.

Yes, that’s perfect, she thought to herself and raised her hand again. This time it was the commotion inside the room that stopped her, just before her knuckles could connect with the surface of the door.

Mary stared at the door confused. It sounded like a fight in there. Were they fighting in there? Why? Weren't they friends? Was she wrong and Arthur got the man here to rob him?

She should walk away. Or knock anyway, interrupt them, but the curiosity inside her told her to stay, to listen more. She heard groans and gasps, the bed cracking. Something fell onto the floor with a thud and then there were a lot of wet sounds, sounding awfully like…

Mary gasped, horrified, and took a step back from the door. It didn’t help, she could still hear it, the clear sound of lips moving against one another, of tongues tangled together and with it, soft, muffled moans.

No.

It couldn’t be. She was hearing things, there was no way that was what she thought it was. She was either mistaken or Arthur, while she was making sure she looked pretty, got a prostitute inside his room while his friend left.

Her Arthur couldn’t be…

“Fuck…” she heard a loud gasp.

Mary closed her eyes tightly. This was definitely a man’s voice and it didn’t belong to Arthur.

The next one did. A low chuckle and then the purr. “That’s the point, boy.”

Boy. Not ‘miss’, not ‘girl’.

Boy.

Arthur was with a man there and they weren’t doing anything innocent.

Now Mary wanted to go away even more but for some reason, she found herself closer to the door when she opened her eyes again. There were more gasps coming from the room, even whimper. Her curiosity grew, even though she knew she didn’t want to see what was really happening.

But she grabbed the doorknob anyway and turned it slowly, gently. The door wasn’t locked and it opened without making a sound. Or it made one but she didn’t hear, because other sounds were more audible.

She didn’t take a look inside at first, just listened. Apart from groans and gasps, she recognized the twisting of the sheets, no doubt withered within tight grip. She heard a rhythmic, slick sound of something sliding in and out and she had a good idea what it was. It made her sick.

And finally, even over the cacophony that those sounds were to her, Mary heard Arthur’s soft murmurs. She opened her eyes then, and the first thing she saw was him, hovering over the other man’s naked back, whispering into it.

Then she saw the scarred man’s blissful face, his eyes closed and mouth open with gasps and groans that were escaping him without a stop as Arthur…

Mary closed her eyes again and turned around to walk away. Only she couldn’t move, no matter how hard she tried. Even when she moved her foot just an inch, it quickly returned to its previous position, not letting her escape. She was trapped by what she saw and what she could still hear.

She desperately wanted to wipe it out from her memory but she already knew it was forever branded in it. She didn’t see much but it was enough, it hurt just hard enough.

Her sweet Arthur, an invert. She couldn’t believe it. This man had to infect him, she had no other explanation why Arthur would suddenly turn to the men looking for sexual pleasure. He was handsome, he could have any woman or pay any prostitute to spend the night with him and he chose this? Impossible.

Mary looked at them both again, even if it made her stomach twist in disgust. At some point when she wasn’t looking, they started kissing, with the scarred man laying on his front on the bed, already naked. Arthur, still in his clothes, was partially above him, pressing his body into another, his fingers between the globes of the other man’s buttocks. Every time he moved them, they made a sloppy sound that was so uncomfortable to Mary’s ears it was making her want to cover them as if she was a little girl not listening to her mother again.

This was wrong. It looked and sounded wrong but Mary didn’t look away and watched how the man gasped in pleasure and gripped the sheets tighter every time Arthur pushed his fingers deep inside him, all the way to the knuckles. 

“Come on,” the man rasped after breaking the kiss by turning his face away. Arthur wasn’t done though, he dive in for the neck, kissing and biting it while he still worked his lover open, distracting him from finishing his thought. The man groaned after one bite and hid his face in the sheets at the end of the bed. They didn’t even lay correctly on it. “Fuck, Art, come on,” he said again, with more desperation. “Want it rough tonight.”

Tonight. It wasn't the first time.

The thought of it happening many times in the past stirred something ugly deep inside of Mary, and it felt like anger. She wasn't angry at Arthur, he was just a victim in this. He was probably lonely and let this man manipulate him.

No, her anger was only aimed at this scarred man. This dirty outlaw that was infecting Arthur for god knows how long. Who turned him into an invert and didn’t even look guilty. In fact, he was enjoying himself. Once released, he turned onto his back and watched with lust how Arthur undressed, his eyes moving up and down that strong body, looking at it like a piece of meat.

He was disgusting, carrying only about his pleasure and not that he ruined a good man with his sick tendencies.

The man let his legs fall open shamelessly and he chuckled when naked Arthur crawled between them in a hurry and grabbed him under his knees, spreading him even wider. Arthur didn’t hesitate before entering the man swiftly, starting an urgent pace right away. It only showed how deep the other man’s influence ran. But the worst part was not the long moan that deviant released while throwing his head back at the intrusion or how sick this whole act was.

No, the worst part was that Arthur seemed to enjoy it. Mary watched his face, captivated by the pure pleasure that appeared on it. It wasn't the first time she saw this expression on him, she witnessed it herself many times laying under him like that man. It was sickening that entering another man could cause him to feel the same as entering a woman, the love of his life.

Arthur’s eyes remained open as he fucked the other man, making quick, shallow thrusts into him. “Rough enough for you, darlin’?” he asked without slowing down even for a moment.

The other man answered with a groan and looked up at Arthur, smirking. “You can do better than that, dear,” he mocked.

Arthur chuckled. “You goddamn right I can!” he growled. His strong hands found the other man’s thighs and grabbed them tightly, Arthur’s knuckles going with the force of his grip. His nails must’ve pierced the pale skin because the black haired man hissed with pain but his hips bucked with eagerness, meeting Arthur’s now even stronger thrusts.

Mary watched his whole body move with the force of them, how quickly it got covered with sweat. It changed drastically over the years, getting bigger, stronger, and by God she wanted to touch it, feel it above her, surrounding her, feel those strong muscles under her desperate hands as she would claw at it while Arthur would fill her again, and again, and again with his thick cock.

But instead of her, some man was enjoying that wonderful lover that Arthur was. Mary was getting angrier with every second, with every high pitched moan the man was releasing. With every squeeze of his thighs, trying to keep Arthur deep inside himself. With every breathless ‘yes’ and “like that” falling from his lips.

How did he dare to do this to Arthur? He didn’t deserve him. It should’ve been Mary in his place right now if only her letter got to Arthur like it should.

If this man wanted to destroy his life and die at some point, killed for his perversion, so be it, but he should’ve left Arthur alone. What could he give Arthur? A brief pleasure, if even that. Mary could give him home, stability, and children. She would love and care for him, not only what Arthur could give her like he was giving that man.

It probably wasn't even love. It couldn’t be. This animalistic sex was all lust, nothing more. It showed in their movement. Even when Arthur hovered over the man to kiss him, one hand holding his hips still and the other supporting his weight above his lover, it didn’t look tender, like there were any feelings behind it. 

Their kiss was too strong, too hungry, too desperate. There was no gentleness in it, just pure need for relief. Arthur was always eager for love and this man used it for his own gain.

With their lips joined, there was almost no sound except the bed cracking and their bodies connecting with each powerful snap of Arthur’s hips that were hypnotizing to watch in their violent motion. The scarred man tried to moan but it was muffled, swallowed by Arthur’s desperate kiss.

The man put his hand in Arthur’s hair, threading them almost tenderly. Almost, because before it could really look like that, he just grabbed the locks tightly, making Arthur hiss in pain. That didn’t stop him and he continued to fuck and kiss the other man till they both needed to end it.

“Shit, yes!” the man moaned, his other hand grabbing Arthur’s biceps in a tight grip that left red marks of his fingers when he shortly after moved his palm higher, onto the shoulder. “Just like that,” he begged, panting the words while looking up at Arthur's face just inches from his.

Arthur smirked at him and broke the rhythm, slowly pulling out of the man. Mary thought it was the end, the man must’ve thought that too because he looked distressed for a moment, but then his mouth went slack and he groaned deep in his throat when Arthur snapped his hips back, filling him to the brim. “How about that?” he asked smugly and continued with this, slowly pulling out again and then entering with one hard trust.

“Perfect!” the man choked out, now grabbing both Arthur shoulders with his hands and sliding them down and up his strong back as Arthur grinded into him. “Just perfect,” he repeated and exposed his neck.

Arthur didn’t need another invitation and bent his head to add more bite marks and hickey on the pale skin there, humming with pleasure as the man awarded him with another obscene moans and purrs of pleasure.

The anger Mary felt for a while now suddenly turned into fear when the dark haired man turned his head towards her. She was in the shadow of the corridor and his eyes were fogged with pleasure but she knew he saw her standing there, watching them, frozen. Mary expected him to be terrified and pushing Arthur away, after all, inverts could get killed for what they were doing. But the man wasn’t scared, he didn’t end this disgusting act in any way.He wasn’t even angry.

He smirked and mouthed something she couldn’t read from his lips. But she heard the next part he said out loud.

“Oh, Arthur,” he sighed, closing his eyes. Mary's abdomen clenched uncomfortably. The man’s words sounded almost like mocking. Unlike the next ones. “God, I love you so much, Art.”

Arthur grunted something and increased his thrusting again after those words, as if they encouraged him. They probably did, even if they were a lie. Mary refused to believe they weren’t, even if they sounded sincere.

“Love you too, darlin’,” Arthur panted and kissed the man something fiercely, in a way he never kissed Mary. She also never heard him talking like that to her, with so much love in his words. How did this man do it? How did he manage to twist Arthur so much he was genuinely convinced he was in love with that… that pervert!

When they separated again, Arthur rested his face against the marked throat, still thrusting eagerly into the man under him, chanting his name like a mantra.

John. His name was John and he was smirking at her again, just like in the corridor, exactly the same, his eyes saying what his mouth was trying to do earlier.

Look what you gave away like it was nothing. You had your chance and you lost it, he’s mine now and I’m never letting him go.

But that was impossible. He wouldn’t know about all this.

Arthur suddenly did something that made John look away and shout in ecstasy. Mary watched as John grabbed Arthur tightly with all of his limbs, scratching his back with his nails and moaning with every snap of Arthur’s hips.

She was horrified. And heartbroken. And she couldn’t move or just turn away. Not even when it was clear both men were close to climax. She still watched as Arthur sneaked his hand between both of them and started stroking John’s hard member. She watched as they kissed through John’s orgasm, swallowing each other’s moans and cries. She watched as Arthur pulled out from John, turned him on his front again, lifted his hips and reentered him, making the other man moan brokenly.

With half closed eyes, John let himself be fucked like some doll, like an animal, moaning from time to time and clenching his fists in the sheets. His body moved with every thrust, his chest sliding across the silky cover while his ass was held in the air and pounded into.

“Harder, please,” he whispered, and Mary heard it even through the slapping of Arthur’s pelvis against the pilant body. “Give it to me, Arthur, please.”

Arthur moaned hearing this desperate voice. Mary didn’t know it was possible but he somehow started thrusting harder. John whimpered helplessly, she could swear he tried to crawl away but Arthur’s hold on him was too strong and he could only lay there and take it face was turned towards her but he looked lost in the world of pleasure Arthur was giving him.

When his body went stiff and he hid his face in the sheets, biting it with a high pitched whimper, she knew he came again. Arthur did so too, shouting John’s name as if they weren’t in the hotel full of people and the window in their room wasn’t open.

Arthur’s body stilled, buried deep in the willing body, his grip on John getting weaker as he started panting, exhausted. John sighed under him and a second later groaned from pain, surely from the uncomfortable position he was in. Arthur heard it and pulled out of him. Mary tracked the trickle of semen with her eyes until it broke.

With gentle hands, so different than the ones that just few seconds ago were trapping John in sex he couldn’t handle anymore, Arthur lowered the man’s hips and laid down next to him. John turned toward him instantly and kissed his sweat gleaming chest. Arthur kissed the top of his head in return and both men embraced each other. John even put his leg around Arthur’s hip. Mary could see the seed leaking of him and she was sure John did it on purpose.

“Love you, my sweet,” John murmured quietly, but loud enough for Mary to hear. “So much. I’m never gonna leave you.”

“Love you too,” Arthur answered, his voice quivering slightly. “Don’t leave. Ever.”

“Promise,” John yawned and she didn’t hear anything more from him, or from Arthur for that matter. They seemed to fall asleep.

With heart still beating wildly and tears threatening to fall, she quietly turned around with the intention of going back to her own room and ignoring the unwelcome pulsing and wetness between her legs that shouldn’t have appeared in the first place. She felt disgusted with herself.

“Close the door behind you, Mary.”

She froze when he heard that voice. She knew it very well, it didn’t belong to John.

Afraid but also curious, she looked inside the room again. Arthur was watching her with blank expression, John still in his arms, wrapped in them almost possessively. She couldn’t move, he trapped her with his gaze. Only when he looked down at John she managed to escape, locking the door behind herself.

When she tried to sleep that night, whenever she closed her eyes, she wasn’t seeing the disgusting, sinning act. She was seeing that loving look on Arthur’s face when he looked at his sleeping lover.

That hurt her more than seeing Arthur with another man. And it made it harder to pretend there was nothing there.

And she could only blame herself. She gave him away, lost him. He wasn’t hers anymore and John wasn’t going to let him go, just like his eyes said. It was so intense in his gaze he didn’t even need to say it. 

The longer she laid awake angry, the more tired she was becoming and simply started to be miserable, even crying for a while just to let go of some emotions. It wasn't helping a lot when her thoughts kept drifting to the room nearby where Arthur and John slept soundly in each other’s embrace while she was alone and cold after she lost her chance for happiness, for her happy ending.

Again.

If she even had the second time at all. Arthur said he loved John, they couldn’t have met shortly after she and Arthur met in Valentine again.

Mary came to Saint Denis because of her father, but the next morning she decided to leave without dealing with him. To hell with this old, bitter mule, he didn’t want her help anyway.

Arthur and John left before her in the early morning, their room locked and no sounds coming from inside. She didn’t know why she checked. Maybe she still hoped it could be fixed but she was only fooling herself.

So she returned to her room and started packing. When she picked up her dress from yesterday that she tossed on the floor carelessly while upset last night, she heard the rustle coming from it. Confused, she checked it whole till she heard the sound again, under the stripe of fabric working as a decorative element.

She slipped her fingers under it and pulled a piece of crumpled paper.

Mary’s heartbeat increased when she recognize the paper. Slowly, she unfolded it and all the blood dried from her face when her suspicions were confirmed.

It was her letter to Arthur.

She dropped it as if it burned and quickly finished packing, leaving it behind on the floor where it fell.

But the words written on it right under hers, just like the event of last night, were already stuck in her memory.

_Stop writing to him_

**Author's Note:**

> John deserves a fine spanking and some orgasm delay for being noisy, reading other people’s letters like that and pushing his nose where it doesn't belonged. But that's something for another part of the series 👀


End file.
